


More Than Just Sex

by justdrarryme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Harry Potter, Daily Prophet, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, Grimmauld Place, I'll use it again in another fic, Infidelity, M/M, Some feels, Swearing, Top Draco Malfoy, but there's not really any smut, house elf, i'm so proud that I thought up such a cool name, named Cilly, sort of but not really, they have sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 16:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16122377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdrarryme/pseuds/justdrarryme
Summary: They had been ‘Enemies with Benefits' for a while now. So what happens when Harry realises that he wants more? It was never going to be easy.





	More Than Just Sex

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as kind of a cathartic sort of thing based off of a break up that I had 9 years ago but quickly morphed into something else entirely. 
> 
> Thank you so much to my BEAUTIFUL Beta who you can find on Tumblr @purelydrarry I am very lucky to know you. All remaining mistakes are mine alone. 
> 
> Also, thank you to @lettersbyelise for suggesting that I turn my....whatever it was, into writing.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always welcome. I'll take constructive criticism but if you're going to be nasty then please, just move along.
> 
> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and everything in it belongs to JK Rowling and I don't own any of it, nor am I making any money from doing this.

"It didn't mean anything, I was so drunk, and then he came on to me…" He gestured uselessly with his hands before mumbling, "I was still so angry at you."

"What, so you're going to go around getting drunk and snogging other blokes every time you get angry at me, is that it? Because if that's the case then you're going to be doing a hell of a lot of cheating. And what happens when I really piss you off, huh? Are you going to start letting them fuck you? I can guarantee you that none of them will be able to fuck you like I can, Potter."

Harry winced at the way Malfoy spoke his last name, like it was something vile. And cheating? They weren't even dating!

"No, I'm not! Besides, as I recall, you were the one that said we weren't even dating. I fucking asked you to stay, Malfoy. But you didn't, you just brushed me off like you usually do. So I figured that seeing as we weren't dating I was allowed to do as I pleased." He knew he was being petulant but he was angry now and his voice was rising without his permission.

He wasn't just angry with Malfoy though, he was pretty angry with himself as well. How could he have been so stupid? There was only one person in this world that he wanted and he was sitting right across from him at his kitchen table, with his perfect kissable lips and soft hair falling into his eyes before he roughly brushed it away.

"Just because we aren't dating doesn't mean that you can just go around fucking half of Muggle London," Draco all but spat in his face as he said this, face going red with anger as his hands clenched around the edge of the table. He was obviously trying to keep what little composure he still had but he was failing.

" _Wha_ —? I already told you, I didn't sleep with him, I kissed him, that's it. And as soon as I did it I left and came back here," he was so confused, why did Malfoy even care?

Malfoy didn't answer him, he just kept his gaze directed down at his hands on the old wooden dining table between them.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry figured that he should probably say something more but all he could think to say was: "I'm so sorry Draco."

Draco looked up at him then but Harry couldn't look him in the eye so he turned his head away as he bought a hand up and ran it through his hair in discomfort.

"Sometimes sorry just isn't enough," there was an almost unnoticeable tremor in his voice now, "It's not enough, I can't do this anymore. I should have ended this months ago, hell, I should have never let it happen at all," he whispered finally, almost to himself.

Harry's heart started to beat wildly in his chest and he looked up in panic as Malfoy pushed back his chair and stood to leave.

"Don't, please don't go," he pleaded as his chair fell over when he practically jumped to his feet.

Malfoy ignored him as he picked up his jacket and made his way over to the door.

He paused and a tentative hope bloomed in Harry's chest.

"Goodbye, Harry," he said quietly before walking out of the kitchen and gently closing the door behind him.

He was gone.

He didn't even look back.

 

******

 

It had all started when Harry had gone to the Manor a few months after the trials to return Malfoy's wand. Malfoy invited him in but it only took about .5 seconds before they were fighting again. Somewhere along the way though, the fighting turned into something that was decidedly not fighting when they realised that they were both painfully hard. They had been ‘Enemies with Benefits' ever since.

That was six months ago.

No one knew about it except for them, not even their closest friends. They would meet up at Grimmauld Place a few times a week for a very thorough fucking and then Malfoy would leave straight afterwards, never staying the night. Though Harry had recently found himself wishing that he would.

And that was the problem; Harry wanted more and Malfoy didn't. When their arrangement first began the war was still fresh in everyone's minds including theirs and they were at each other's throats constantly, except for when they were fucking. Well, mostly, they could get a bit aggressive sometimes when they were doing that too.

After six months of sleeping together though, Harry had started to realise that there was so much more to Malfoy than he had first thought. Yeah, he was a snarky little shit a lot of the time but he was also pretty funny, extremely intelligent and very interesting, and he cared a lot about those that he loved. Not to mention how fit he was. He was bloody beautiful. Just a bit taller than Harry, all long, lean, and muscular limbs. He'd grown his hair out a little and stopped slicking it back like he had in school and it really suited him. He turned heads wherever he went and not just because he was an ex-Death Eater.

He first realised that he was falling for Malfoy when he saw him visiting the Ministry one day. He was sitting with some bloke that Harry had never seen before and he was _laughing_ , actually laughing like Harry had never seen him do before. A sudden surge of jealousy shot through him as he continued to watch the two of them, laughing and drinking their coffee together. Why had Malfoy never laughed like that around him?

For a while he just tried to ignore his feelings the best he could. It wasn't an ideal coping method, he could admit that, but it got him through the day. It was going really well for him too until a few days ago when he realised that he was actually in love with the man. That's when everything went to shit.

On Thursday night Malfoy came through his Floo at nine o'clock on the dot as per usual and was on Harry in an instant, startling him without so much as a hello. He had kissed Harry fiercely before turning him around and bending him over the back of his couch, preparing him quickly with expert fingers before shoving his thick cock inside of him when Harry started to beg.

He had a fist in Harry's hair, holding him in place while whispering filthy words into his ear as he fucked into him hard and fast, relentlessly, just the way they both liked it.

When Malfoy went to leave, instead of letting him go like he usually would, Harry had asked him to stay. The words had already left his mouth before he even really thought it through.

"Potter, I'm not your bloody boyfriend. We fuck, that's it. No need to make it complicated." He thought for a moment that he could see something contradictory flicker through the other man's eyes, something almost…sad, longing maybe? But it was gone in an instant.

Malfoy had given him one last look over his shoulder before disappearing through the Floo again.

He'd been so angry that as soon as Malfoy had left he got changed and headed out to the nearest nightclub. So they weren't boyfriends? _Fine_ , fucking _fine_.

Unfortunately, though, the club wasn't as Wizard free as he first thought which was why he was now on the cover of this morning's edition of The Daily Prophet. An almost full-page photo of him kissing a nameless Muggle with the headline: ‘Boy Who Lived? Or Boy Who Snogged?'

That was why he was now sitting all alone in his kitchen feeling like a hole had been punched through his chest.

He would give anything for a time turner right now.

 

******

 

It had been two weeks now since Malfoy had walked out of his kitchen and his life.

Two weeks since Harry had made what he was sure was the biggest mistake of his life.

He hadn't been to Auror training, hadn't even left his house. He'd closed off his Floo, made excuses to all of his friends and warded his house against owls.

Instead, he had taken to drowning himself in Firewhiskey and some expensive looking Elf wine that he found in the cellar a few days ago when he was searching for more alcohol. He was currently laying on the couch in his living room feeling sick and miserable, surrounded by empty whiskey and wine bottles and a few discarded takeout containers.

Naturally, this was the point at which Hermione decided to come knocking at his door. He was a bit surprised that it had taken her this long to be honest.

Harry tried to ignore it but the knocking just became louder and louder and it was hurting his throbbing head. He groaned in pain and dropped an arm over his face.

"Harry, I know you're in there, let me in right now or I'll break down your door! Don't think that I won't!" She sounded pretty angry.

And he didn't doubt her, he knew that she would. With another groan and a lot of reluctance he levered himself up off the couch and stood up shakily while steadying himself on the edge of the couch before winding his way down the hall to the front door, trying not to trip over one of the many empty bottles littering the floor as he went.

As soon as he opened the door Hermione came barging through and saw herself to the living room, barely seeming to notice the state that Harry was in. He closed the front door with a sigh and followed her back down the hall, resigned to his fate.

"Harry…this is…it's a mess in here, what the hell have you been doing for the last two weeks?" She had stopped in the doorway and was looking around the room aghast.

"Drinking, mostly," he supplied simply as he collapsed back down onto the couch and reached out for his discarded bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Well I can see that," she said while taking another look around the room before settling her eyes disapprovingly on Harry. He just ignored it and took another gulp of his drink, relishing the burn as it washed down his throat.

"What do you want? What are you doing here?" He really just wanted to get this over with.

Hermione gingerly perched herself on the couch across from Harry's which was covered in stains of some description. "You haven't been to Auror training and you've been ignoring everyone for weeks now Harry. I'm worried, everyone's worried. Except for Kingsley, he's furious," she added shooting him a stern look.

Fuck it all. "He left, Hermione."

"Have you heard from him at all?" She asked him without missing a beat and he looked up at her curiously.

"No." He didn't want to ask her how she knew about the two of them. This was Hermione though.

"Have you tried contacting him?" Her voice was gentler now and she actually looked a bit sympathetic.

"He made it pretty clear that it was over. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to hear from me after what I did," regret came washing over him again and he took another gulp from his drink.

"Pansy tells me that he's pretty miserable too. Apparently, he hasn't left the Manor since that night." So that's how she knew, Parkinson.

"Yeah, I'm sure he's really fucking miserable, especially since we weren't even in a relationship and he didn't want to be." He really tried not to sound bitter as he said this but he was pretty sure that he failed on that account.

"Do you know for sure that he didn't want to be? Because it seems to me like there's more to this than he's letting on."

"That night, I asked him to stay after… well, after we, you know," he gestured crudely with his hands and Hermione rolled her eyes, "but he said that it wasn't like we were boyfriends or anything and that we shouldn't complicate things."

"Maybe he was lying," she replied in that way she did when she thought she knew something that he didn't.

"Why would he do that though? That's stupid." His mind quickly supplied him with the image of the flicker that he thought he'd seen in Draco's eyes that night. He'd been thinking about that moment quite a lot over the last two weeks through the haze of his near-constant drunkenness.

"I don't know Harry, but I think you should ask him that yourself. Just think about it, okay?" He gave her a small nod of his head while taking another sip from his bottle of whiskey and letting it settle in his stomach before answering.

"Yeah, okay."

"And in the meantime," she looked around the room again, "you might want to tidy and sober up a bit. I would suggest a shower and a change of clothes before seeing Draco again too."

She scrunched her nose up in his direction and he winced a little as he realised how messy he had let not just Grimmauld Place get, but also himself. He was sure he must smell terrible.

"Mmm, you're probably right. As always." He gave her an affectionate smile which she returned.

"I'm not always right, Harry, I make my fair share of mistakes too. Just not as often as you do it seems," she replied giving him a pointed look.

He let out a hoarse bark of laughter at this and got up to show her out.

When she was gone he discarded the Firewhiskey bottle and went upstairs to pass out on the bed that he hadn't slept in for weeks. He pulled the sheets up over his head and inhaled deeply, he hadn't washed them since the last time that they'd fucked on his bed and they still smelled faintly of sex, of Malfoy. He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face and some hope in his heart.

 

*******

 

Harry had spent the last few days thinking about what Hermione had said and trying to think of what exactly he was going to do to try and fix things with Draco. He was Draco now. While doing so, he'd managed to clean Grimmauld Place from top to bottom (the rooms he used anyway) and done all of his laundry. Draco would be so proud of him, he was always saying that Harry's place was such a mess and he never understood why he had sent Kreacher to live at Hogwarts when he so clearly needed him here to ‘keep the house in order'.

He even reopened his Floo, contacted Kingsley to apologise and organise some more time off from Auror training and had gone grocery shopping. It felt good to leave the house and soak up some of the warm Spring sunshine after having spent so long hiding indoors.

Once he had run out of chores to do and mail to catch up on he decided that it was time to sit down and write to Draco. He'd thought it through a lot and although he would much rather just show up on the doorstep of Malfoy Manor, he figured that maybe that wasn't the best way to go. There was no telling how angry Draco still was with him.

When he was finally done writing he quickly re-read his note. Having decided that most of what he wanted to say would best be said in person so he had opted for short and sweet.

  ~~Malfoy~~

Draco,

I need to talk to you. I'll stop by the Manor at 7 tonight if convenient. Just send a reply back with

~~Yours,~~

~~Love~~ ,

HP

He tied the letter to Arro's leg who returned a short while later with a note that simply read, ‘Fine, Potter.' At least it wasn't a 'no' he supposed.

 

******

 

It was five minutes to seven and Harry was pacing nervously in front of the Manor gates. He would usually just Floo over but he felt like maybe that wasn't appropriate at the moment so he had decided to Apparate instead.

He took another deep breath before conjuring his Patronus and sending it down the tree-lined drive. Barely a few minutes later he heard the gates pop open and the wards rippled around him as they accepted him through.

For once he was glad that the drive was so long as it gave him time to think about what he was going to say when he saw Draco. He'd been thinking about it for days really but he still had no idea how to even start. How do you even begin to tell your ‘enemy with benefits' that you've fallen in love with him anyway? There wasn't exactly a guidebook for this kind of thing. He'd already asked Hermione and she'd just given him a pitying look.

Draco was waiting for him, leaning on the open front door in what was probably supposed to be a casual pose when he finally reached the Manor. He looked tired, worn out, and not at all his usual well-kept self.

"Potter," he greeted him with a slight nod of his head as he walked up the steps.

"Draco," the other man inhaled sharply and stiffened slightly at the use of his given name.

Quickly composing himself he gestured for Harry to follow him inside and they made their way side by side down the massive hall to where Harry knew the formal parlour was. It was where the Malfoy's entertained all of their formal guests. It was impersonal and it made him a bit nervous.

"Tea?" Draco asked in a tight voice as he sat down on the antique and very uncomfortable looking sofa.

"Er, yeah, sure, that would be great, thanks." Merlin, he was so nervous now.

He took a seat on an identical sofa across from Draco which was, surprisingly, actually quite comfortable. There had to be spells on it, there was no way that a piece of furniture so stiff looking could actually be this comfortable to sit on.

"Cilly!" Draco called and one of the Malfoy House Elves suddenly popped into existence between them.

"Yes, Master Draco?" The Elf asked as she bowed. Harry was surprised to note that the Elf, Cilly, was actually wearing clothing.

"Please fetch us a pot of tea and," Draco paused, "Potter, would you like something to eat?"

Harry, who had still been looking at Cilly with curiosity looked up to find grey eyes looking at him questioningly. "Um, no, no, that's fine, I've already eaten thanks." That was a lie but he was so nervous right now, had been all day, that he wasn't sure he could eat anything even if he wanted to.

Draco looked back down at the small Elf.

"Just tea then please, Cilly. And then go check on Mother, tell her that I have a guest but that I'll rejoin her shortly." That didn't sound very promising.

"Right away, Master Malfoy, sir." Cilly disappeared with a pop and returned just a moment later with a tea tray set up for the both of them before disappearing again.

Neither of them moved to touch the tea and instead sat in an awkward silence. Harry was wringing his now sweaty hands in his lap and staring out the huge windows into the night as he tried to think of a way to start talking. He could feel Draco staring at him though, he could always feel when the other man was looking at him, it was like some kind of sixth sense.

Finally, Draco broke the stifling silence with a sigh, "Alright, out with it, what do you want? Why have you decided to grace me with your presence this evening?" He said this in a way that left Harry in no doubt that he wasn't actually pleased to have him here.

Harry turned back to look at Draco. He really did look tired, like he hadn't slept in weeks. It was at this point that he let himself wonder if maybe Hermione had been right after all, maybe Draco had been as miserable as he has. He felt a spark of hope at this.

Draco gave another tired sigh, "I don't have all night, Potter."

"You look really tired. Have you not been sleeping? And why is your House Elf wearing clothes?" That wasn't exactly what he had meant to say.

"You mean to tell me that you came here to inquire about my sleeping habits and my House Elf?" He asked with a sneer while raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Wait, no, I didn't mean to say that," he rushed to correct himself afraid that Draco would kick him out before he even had time to explain. Merlin, could this go any worse?

"Then how about you tell me what you did mean to say?" He sounded like he was losing his patience now.

Harry took a quick moment to collect himself before he started talking again. He looked at his feet as he spoke, not so sure that he wanted to see the look on Draco's face as he said any of this.

"I came here to tell you that I miss you. I miss you, Draco. I've been miserable. I haven't been to training, I blew off all my friends for two weeks until Hermione decided to come barging into my house and-" he paused and took a deep breath, trying to regain his train of thought, "the last couple of days have been the first that I've actually been sober for since you left that night. I couldn't even sleep in my bed because it smelled like you, like us, because I didn't change the sheets after the last time you fucked me in it."

"You're housekeeping skills are incredibly poor, Potter." It was an insult, yes, but it seemed to be lacking in any real malice.

Draco finally reached over to the coffee table between them and poured them both a cup of tea, making Harry's just as he liked it, too much milk and too much sugar. He doesn't remember having ever told him how he takes his tea, he just always seemed to know. But then Harry can't talk, after all the years spent watching Draco at Hogwarts, he knew exactly how he took his tea too, a small amount of milk and no sugar.

"Is that all you came here to say? Because I'm afraid that I don't quite understand your point." Of course, he wasn't going to make this easy. But when Draco passed Harry his tea, and their eyes met, he found the courage that he'd been searching for.

"I'm in love with you." Draco's eyes grew wide and the hand that was holding his cup and saucer began to tremble slightly before he steadied it on his knee.

" _What?_ " He all but whispered, obviously shocked.

Harry leaned forward again and sat his tea down on the table as everything that he had wanted to say, everything that he had been holding in came rushing out all at once as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for a while, probably longer than I even realise, it just took me a long time to figure it out I guess. That night…" he trailed off a bit and looked down at the floor as he remembered what had happened after Draco had left, "a few days before that night was when I finally figured it out, figured out that I want more than sex. I want a proper relationship Draco, I want everything, I want you. Just you. Only you. And it kills me that you don't want that too." There, he'd said it.

When Draco didn't reply straight away he looked up again to see that he was trembling even more now and Harry wasn't sure if it was out of anger, shock, or something else entirely.

He set his tea down on the table next to Harry's and straightened up again.

"Then why the fuck did you go out and start snogging seemingly the first bloody Muggle that you came across?" He asked disbelievingly.

"Because I'm a fucking idiot, okay?" He snapped back, he was still so angry at himself. Even if Draco didn't want him, he shouldn't have done it. "I was so hurt when I asked you to stay and you didn't. Wouldn't. Didn't want to, whatever."

He waved a hand in the air dismissively before resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. This was embarrassing and he was starting to question why he even came here in the first place. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and pretended he was somewhere else he would be.

There was silence again before Draco spoke.

"Harry." His voice was shaking ever so slightly.

He froze. Draco's never called him 'Harry' before.

"Harry. Look at me."

When he looked up it was to see Draco looking at him with soft grey eyes.

"You-you called me Harry?" He sat up a bit straighter.

Draco huffed a small laugh, "Yes, well I think it's about time, don't you?"

He was so confused, "Um, I guess, yeah," what the hell was happening?

He turned serious again, "Harry, I didn't want to leave."

This probably shocked him more than the use of his given name, "Then why the hell did you?"

"I didn't think that you could ever want me for anything more than sex." He stated this so plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How could you even think that?"

Draco relaxed back into his chair and seemed to think for a moment while looking out into the night. Eventually he returned his gaze to Harry.

"Because I'm a Death Eater. Was a Death Eater." He corrected himself at the glare that Harry gave him. "I didn't think that you would ever want to be seen with me in public. Didn't think that you would ever want to tell your friends about me. Not to mention have a long-term relationship with me, it's not like I'm the kind of person that ‘The Boy Who Lived' should be marrying, am I?" Harry's heart stuttered at this, "Just imagine if The Prophet found out, they would have an absolute field day."

"I really don't give a shit about the sodding Prophet, Draco. And you should know that, you know I hate that stupid rag." He definitely complained about it enough.

Draco just shrugged his shoulders in a very un-Malfoy like gesture and returned his gaze to the window. 

"Also, I've been owling Hermione over the last few days and I'm fairly certain that everyone already knows. I know for sure that Hermione knows, and if Hermione knows then Ron definitely knows, and if he knows then all of the Weasleys know as well and none of them have come banging on my door demanding an explanation of any sort so I'd say that they're okay with it."

Draco turned back to Harry again and let out another small laugh, though this one was somewhat derisive, "You really do have an answer for everything, don't you? You think that everything is so simple, that you can just do whatever you want, date whoever you want and there won't be any consequences."

"Yeah, I really do. But you're wrong about one thing, I don't think that everything is that simple. It never has been and it never will be, especially between us, but why does that matter? I want you Draco and I don't care what anyone else has to say about it," he hesitated, "and I think that you want me too. Plus, we can destroy all of the Howlers together. We'll make a game of it."

Draco gave him a sceptical look and seemed to be thinking things through for a few minutes before calling for Cilly again who appeared promptly.

"Yes, Master Draco?" Cilly bowed again and her nose touched to the floor.

"Cilly, please inform Mother that I will be with her momentarily," Harry's heart sank, "and let her know that I will be bringing my guest."

 "Yes, Master, right away, Master." She disappeared with a pop.

Draco looked up at Harry again.

"If we're going to ‘date' or whatever this is, then I want my Mother to be the first to know about us. I won't have her finding out about us from The Daily Prophet or from the avalanche of Howlers that will undoubtedly be descending upon the Manor when the news breaks."

Harry was still in a state of shock and he must've looked it because all of a sudden Draco appeared slightly nervous.

"Of course- I mean- if you don't want to, then that's fine. I didn't mean to assume anything."

He burst out laughing and Draco glared at him. He'd never heard the other man stammer like that before.

"Potter!"

"I'm sorry. It's just that-" he calmed his laughter and caught his breath, "-of course I want to meet your Mother. Of course I want to. It's just that, you're usually so composed when you speak."

Draco shot him another glare before standing up and offering his hand, which of course Harry took as he stood up and walked around the table between them.

He leaned in as he cupped Draco's jaw with his other hand and whispered against his lips, "I really do love you, Draco."

Draco leaned in and pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his lips before pulling back again, "I love you too, Harry."

They left the room, still hand in hand, and made their way towards what he assumed was Narcissa's wing of the Manor when he suddenly remembered.

"Hey, Draco?"

"Mmmm?" He seemed lost in thought.

"Your House Elf, Cilly? Why is she wearing clothes?"

Draco looked a little bit embarrassed at the question. "All of our Elves are free. We freed them after the war. Most of them decided to leave the Manor immediately, can't say that I blame them, but the ones the stayed behind are paid for their service and allowed to wear what they please. I still can't stop them from calling me ‘Master' though."

They stopped in front of a huge oak door, "Ready to face my Mother then, Harry?"

"Of course." He wasn't, he really wasn't. And judging by the smirk on Draco's perfect lips he knew that he wasn't buying it either.

 

The End.

 


End file.
